


No Kinder Sign of Love

by Snowfilly1



Series: Valentine's Oneshots 2020 [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley's Tongue (Good Omens), First Kiss, Ineffable Valentines 2020 (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Scene: The Ritz (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfilly1/pseuds/Snowfilly1
Summary: 'Aziraphale, it's OK. I get it if you don't want to kiss me.'Crowley doubts Aziraphale would ever want to kiss him. Aziraphale wants to show him otherwise.For the prompt 'He could do really weird things with his tongue.'
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Valentine's Oneshots 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631470
Comments: 29
Kudos: 257
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020





	No Kinder Sign of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title is lifted from Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part I where the full line is 'I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.'

‘Aziraphale…It’s OK, I get it if you don’t want to kiss me.’

The angel pulls back slightly, looking up at him. His fingers ease away from Crowley’s hair, trail their way down his neck, shoulder, down to his wrist and rest there lightly. ‘What do you mean?’

Crowley swallows, and tries to look away. He’s been enjoying the past fifteen minutes more than he’s enjoyed anything in his recent memory, and he should have known that Aziraphale wouldn’t like the reality of it all. He’d just wanted to pretend, just for a little while.

‘Crowley?’

He doesn’t want Aziraphale to get the wrong idea, so he moves over a bit on the couch and pushes his leg against Aziraphale’s. ‘Kissing. Look, I know…It’s not like I can really control the snake bits, you know that.’

Aziraphale nods gently. His fingers play a gentle tattoo against Crowley’s wrist.

‘And it’s worse when…’ He pauses, trying to control his voice. He doesn’t want the angel to have to listen to him hissing, give him even more cause to think about being with a demon.

‘When you feel things strongly. I know that, dearest. I’ve known that almost as long as I’ve known you.’ His hand slips lower, fingers tracing over Crowley’s.

‘Tongue.’ He waves his hands, shakes his head, trying to find the words. The stroking helps, he thinks. ‘I can’t promise that, if you’re kissing me, you’re not going to end up with a forked tongue in your mouth and I know it’s…I’d try, you know that, but I can’t promise. So I understand if you don’t want to kiss me like that.’

He sighs, a long exhale that doesn’t let any of the tension out of his body.

‘Crowley?’ And suddenly his vision is mostly full of Aziraphale’s face. ‘Crowley, I’ve been waiting to kiss you for about 2,000 years. Since Rome. There is nothing you could do to change that.’

‘But…but…You weren’t,’ he manages to say.

There’s a hand in his hair again, the grip bordering on forceful so he has to look down at Aziraphale. ‘I’ve been waiting to kiss your face for 2,000 years as well. Kiss you there,’ and he strokes down Crowley’s cheekbone. ‘And here.’ A trace along his jawbone. ‘There,’ and he pushes gently against where a man’s pulse would be. ‘I have wanted to kiss you so badly, for so long…I’m sorry, dearest, if you thought I didn’t. The truth is, I was rather overwhelmed that I finally could.’

Crowley sits, stunned into silence.

Aziraphale tugs him closer, presses his lips against Crowley’s forehead. Against his hair, using his lips to pull softly at a couple of strands. Against his nose.

He vaguely wonders how snake-y his eyes have gone, if his tongue has forked behind his teeth yet, because he’s got no control over himself at the moment. Wonders if it matters.

‘Good?’

He nods, clears his throat and manages something that probably doesn’t sound much like a ‘yes’ but Aziraphale seems to understand that it is. Probably doesn’t realise how far beyond ‘good’ this is for Crowley.

‘I’m going to kiss you,’ Aziraphale says after a minute. Both of his hands are in Crowley’s hair now, linked around the back of his head and pulling him gently down.

Crowley’s seen people kissing millions of times. He likes watching films, aside from anything else. He just hadn’t realised it was meant to feel like this; the pressure and the ebb and flow of it all, the heat and warmth, the feeling like he’d come home to somewhere he’d never known he’d left.

‘You’re smiling,’ he tells Aziraphale an endless time later, when they pull away for air they don’t need.

‘So are you. I could feel it when I was kissing you,’ and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful than how Aziraphale is looking at him. 

He leans against the angel, head resting on his shoulder, and closes his eyes. Feels Aziraphale’s breath ruffling against his hair.

‘Dearest. My beautiful one.’

There was a stream of words like that. Loving, beautiful words that he has no option but to believe; soft and kind and so so fond. He leans closer, winding his body around Aziraphale’s, and tries to drink them in.

And then Aziraphale’s kissing him again, and he knows his tongue’s gone forked, because Aziraphale’s doing something particularly distracting with one hand at the same time, and he can’t bring himself to care about it. At least not until Aziraphale suddenly pulls away, says ‘do that again,’ and he finds himself being pushed firmly against the back of the couch and kissed even more emphatically than before.

Then, he finds he cares about it – and the way it makes Aziraphale squirm on his lap – rather a lot.


End file.
